Finally A Man
by Scarlet-Passion
Summary: Her blue eyes were blazing with anger, their depths hard as steel as she pinned Draco with a cold stare, "Never—speak—of—anyone—in—that—way—again."


_I do not own Harry Potter. _

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><p>Draco Malfoy, in his last two years at Hogwarts, matured greatly.<p>

With his initiation as a Death Eater and the pressure of his mission came the first half of his change as a person. He learned that life is _never _simple, as he was raised to believe. He also learned that life has a cruel sense of justice; his days as the Slytherin Prince were over the moment his received the mark.

He found himself wishing he could be that Gryffindor mudblood who pranced after the Chosen One like Bellatrix did with Voldemort; even _she _had it better than he did.

The second half of his maturity came from a girl. He blocked out everybody as the mission to kill Albus Dumbledore became more desperate. And just when he was about to take his life with a step off the Astronomy Tower, she came charging into his life, pulling him back from the edge. But the dark-haired, blue eyed, pale-skinned girl would do so much more for him.

She visited him in the Hospital Wing after his duel with Harry Potter and became his escape and savior through the tortuous months of his seventh year. She was the only reason he could come to Hogwarts. She didn't cringe away from him the way he knew Pansy would if he ever told Parkinson what his mission was; what he was branded as.

She was gentle. She was two years younger than him, yet she was wiser than he could ever hope to be—after all, she was from Ravenclaw (that ought to raise some eyebrows). Fifteen and beautiful and putting back together a broken boy who, when complete, would be the man he was truly meant to be.

She was, of course, of pure-blood stock. But when he first met her, he didn't know that; she could've been a muggle-born for all he knew. He didn't care. He didn't care that her entire family was of Slytherin, including her older sister who was in Draco's year.

He didn't care about any of these trivial things.

For her, he only cared about two things: who _she _was, as a person and that this person had saved him.

This Ravenclaw, pure-blood girl is Astoria Greengrass.

In her time with Draco, she loved Draco for him and not what his family raised him to be. And in the process, for years to come, she would teach him her own personal philosophy of equality.

Truthfully, Draco would be learning for the rest of his life.

But for the last two years of his schooling, Astoria would be the one to save Draco from the darkness with nothing but gentle, loving hands.

She didn't see in the Battle of Hogwarts how low he sank. Up until that night, she had been convinced that underneath all his fear, there was a better man.

But he didn't show it when he was begging the Death Eater to spare him, swearing that he and his family belonged to Dark Lord exclusively.

No, it was the Red-Haired Blood Traitor, the Chosen One, and the Mudblood to witness it and he got what he deserved from all those years at Hogwarts; a hard, ripe punch in the nose.

Nevertheless, Draco was still changing. His metamorphosis, prolonged by the kindness of his future wife, was about to come to an end.

He sat in the Great Hall, in the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts. Lines of dead bodies set upon the long tables. He tried to look at them, but his vision of them caused an odd stinging in his eyes. He had to look away, but when he did, he only saw the empty eyes of his friend, Vincent Crabbe.

Astoria had come earlier and had found Draco staring hard at his friend, trying to understand what had just happened. The young Greengrass had gently guided his face away from Crabbe. When he looked up at her, he couldn't see her; his vision was too blurry to see anything. So he just pressed his face into her robes and she let him pour a few of his tears into her clothing, letting him mourn for a friend _she_ hadn't even known he loved so much.

She had since gone to check on her family. He waited for her, looking out at everyone else to occupy his time.

He scanned the entire hall until his eyes fell on the Weasley family. He knew that one of the twins had been killed; yet he looked upon them with an expression that held no semblance of sympathy.

"Are you alright?"

He turned to see Astoria.

She was looking at him in concern, "You look confused, Draco."

Even in the midst of all this pain, he still couldn't help but smile at the way she said his name, "It's nothing."

Astoria, used to his evasiveness, guided his face with her hand. She stared at him seriously and asked, "What's on your mind?" In her mind, she believed that the large sight of death had shocked Draco to the core. She was usually very adept at guessing his troubles.

This, however, would be the first time she would be wrong, "It's just those Weasleys."

Her brow furrows in confusion before she asks, "What do you mean?"

He looks back at the mourning family, "You'd think they just lost all their children. I honestly don't understand why they are grieving. They have so many children; I'm surprised they even noticed this one is dead."

She doesn't speak, so he continues.

"Of course, seeing as it was one of those attention-hogging twins, I suppose they would notice. Nevertheless, that idiot father of theirs probably can't tell which one it is: dumb or dumber." He lets out a quiet snicker and for the first time in two years, his classic smirk breaks across his face.

Then he feels a hot pain flash across his face. His head is thrown to the side. The hit was so hard that it left a painful tingle behind. He looked back at Astoria with absolute shock. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger, their depths hard as steel as she pinned Draco with a cold stare, "Never—speak—of—_anyone_—in—that—way—again." Her voice is rough with anger and it frightens Draco.

"Y-You hit me," he muttered in shock.

"What did you expect?" she demanded, her voice a little higher, "For me to swoon over your _ridiculous _sneer like Parkinson did?"

"N-No—"

"Did you expect me to stand here and listen to you _bad-mouth _that family?" she shouted, her voice rising, "Did you expect me to just sit here and agree with every word?"

"I-I just thought—"

"Thought _what_, Draco?" she sneered, "Did you _think _that picking on their pain was classy? Did you _think _that saying the things you said were right?" Her voice had risen to the point where the people nearby had started looking.

He couldn't answer. The shock of her anger had completely silenced him.

"Oh wait—You _didn't _think! YOU NEVER THINK!" she screams so that the entire Great Hall—even the Weasleys—looked at her. "I should've known you would never change." She glares at Draco once before turning to walk away.

Draco reached out for her, touching her shoulder, "Astoria, wait—"

She pushed off his hand. She had had her hand inside her robe; she whipped her wand out and shouted at the top of her lungs the incantation for the Bat-Bogey Hex. The next thing Draco knew, he was slumped on the floor with a long string of mucus falling out of his nose, covering his robes. He would've flown away hadn't it been for the stone wall stopping him mid-flight.

"You see that?" Astoria demanded fiercely, "That family's daughter taught me that." Her eyes were on fire now. She stared at him for one more second before turning on her heels and stalking off out of the hall, leaving Draco alone in his humiliation.

Of course, in that moment, Astoria had only made the young Malfoy fall in love with her even more. Not only was she kind and patient, but also passionate and just. She seemed to be a perfect combination of the three more merciful houses; she had none of the selfish ruthlessness of Slytherin.

That was the moment he finally got it: he had to prove her wrong. He could change; he could be a better man. He would unwittingly, in the process, prove to the world as well that he isn't what everyone thinks he is.

Of course, Astoria had seen that a long time ago. What she didn't know was that Draco would not truly finish changing until he saw _all _of Astoria—anger and all (and for Draco, it made her all the more sexier).

That's when Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Abraxus Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy (née Black), Prince of Slytherin and Death Eater to the Dark Lord would truly understand why he _shouldn't _judge the Weasleys.

Because they love each other, which, in the end, had been Draco's saving grace. His love for his friends, his parents, his future wife was the only light in his darkest years.

That was when Draco finally stepped out of being a pathetic, bigoted boy and into a wiser, better individual.

Draco Malfoy was finally a man.

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><p><em>There are three fanfics that I think perfectly define Astoria and Draco's relationship. They are in my favorites list on my profile.<em>

_Read in this order:_

Desperation

Time of Whispers

He Doesn't Know

**_The fanfics above were NOT written by me. They were written by OTHER PEOPLE. _**


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